


the only way to feel sane

by TheSpaceCoyote



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alpha Kylo Ren, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Blow Jobs, Breeding Kink, Dominant Kylo Ren, M/M, Masturbation, Omega Armitage Hux, Rough Sex, Scent Kink, Sex Toys, Sexual Fantasy, Submissive Armitage Hux, Supreme Leader Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:55:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheSpaceCoyote/pseuds/TheSpaceCoyote
Summary: General Hux fantasizes about the Supreme Leader in the privacy of his own quarters.





	the only way to feel sane

**Author's Note:**

> I really just wanted to write an omegaverse fic with Hux having secret fantasies about Kylo. Obvious none of this is particularly grounded in canon but...thats to be expected at this point from me. Hope you like!
> 
> Also this fic briefly mentions mpreg but there's none actually involved. Hux is just fantasizing.

As far as Hux is concerned, his mind functions much the same way as his ship—deftly regulated, smoothly controlled, primed for both defense and offense. The _Finalizer_ ’s coordinated schedule hardly offers its inhabitants time for much leisure, and neither does Hux’s internal clock, though he doesn’t particularly mind it. A diligent, calculated brain is his best asset, and any frivolities that catch his eye only serve to weaken that. No matter how enticing they might be.

After all, silly fantasies and carnality are hardly becoming of the highest-ranked general in the Order.

And yet, on the miraculous occasion where there _is_ actually time, or if he’s had a particularly trying cycle— _well_.

He’s only human.

Once in his quarters Hux meticulously strips himself of his uniform, beginning with the gloves and ending with the padded shirt beneath his jacket. He leaves his black singlet and basic undergarments on for now as he hangs his clothes properly in the wardrobe, boots carefully aligned underneath.

The top drawer in the nightstand by his bed contains any essentials he might need within reach—a backup data pad, eyedrops, three stims in a pack of four, tissues, a well-used lip balm, a tube of emergency suppressants, a small knife that folds into the handle—among other things. But the drawer beneath it hides a more lurid assortment, items Hux tries to forget he’s purchased outside of these rare occasions.

He knows he’s better than other omegas, who don’t bother to practice any kind of restraint. He has the sense to keep his daydreams to himself, not cheaply flaunt them about in hopes of attracting a mate.

Hux opens the bottom drawer, brushing his hand over its contents. A bottle of unscented lube, two red-foil condom packets, a canister of synthetic alpha pheromones, and finally—a silicone cock, sheathed in a sleek black capsule.

He removes the pheromones, lube, and toy from the drawer and sets them out on the bed, leaving only the condoms as he closes it. After all—within the safety of his fantasy, he wouldn’t need one.

Hux sits cross-legged at first, popping open the large capsule and shaking it slightly until the toy slides into his hand. He blushes a little as the head of the cock settles into his palm, and curls his fingers around it.

He could’ve gone with a more reasonable size, but in an impulse of overconfidence he’d ordered the largest model with the thickest expandable knot at the base. It’s certainly a far cry from the bland, clinical omega aids he remembers from his youth.

Hux rubs his fingers against the synthetic skin, still marveling at its authenticity. The only thing that pulls him out of the illusion—other than the fact that this cock isn’t in fact, attached to the alpha of his desires—is the lack of heat emanating off the material, though by the time Hux fists the shaft in his hand it’s sure to warm up.

He shuffles up against the headboard, resting his lower back against his foam pillow as he sticks his fingers in the waistband of his undergarments and pulls them down to his ankles. He gingerly sets them aside, smelling a hint of his already aroused odor on their fabric as he grabs for the lube. His cheeks tinge, a little embarrassed at his own readiness, even with no one around to watch and deride the general for being so compromised.

Hux slicks the shaft of the toy, leaving a copious amount of lube still on his fingers as he moves to touch himself between the legs. He pushes his two longest digits between his asschecks, spreading them apart as he seeks his hole.Even with his natural slick, he probably needs the lube thanks to the size of the toy, and he knows from experience it’s always best to _over_ estimate.

Hux withdraws his fingers and rests the toy’s base against the bedcovers, letting the shaft tilt against his cock—utterly dwarfed in comparison—as he grabs for the canister of pheromones. It’s taken a long time for Hux to find a brand that properly composites the kind of scent he needs without coming across as cheap or artificial. This current blend boasts authentic dimensions nearly indistinguishable from that of an alpha’s, and while Hux snorts a little at that claim, he tilts his chin up and sprays the pheromones across his neck and chest anyway.

An involuntary shiver runs through his body as the pheromones disperse over his skin, flesh on his scent glands breaking out in goosebumps. He sprays a little bit on his palm before letting the canister roll back onto the bed as he brings his hand up over his mouth and nose and inhales.

Deep and rousing, like torched, aromatic wood and hide with a hint of ether, aerosolized to tingle in his nostrils.

It’s not _quite_ Kylo’s scent, but it’s close enough. It can’t quite capture the mysterious low-tones Hux has yet to precisely ascertain, the crawling odor that never fails to send a shiver up his spine whenever Kylo brushes past—and yes it’s _Kylo_ , in the privacy of Hux’s quarters it’s always Kylo. _Ren_ carries such formality and disdain, too tainted by the actuality of their relationship to function within the parameters of Hux’s fantasy.

He rubs the remaining scent on his hand over his cheeks and down his neck, trailing his fingers over the pulse of his throat as he swallows. He presses them there for a moment, daring, with just enough force to hitch the air in his windpipe, before he lets his hand fall away.

Hux leans forward a little to grab the base of the toy, carefully angling it towards his ass. He nudges it between his cheeks, tilting his chin down to look though there’s not much to see with his cock in the way, steadily stiffening with each encroaching inch. He bites his lip as he feels the head of the toy start to stretch his hole, eased somewhat by the lubrication, though it’s still a little taxing. Perhaps he needs to alter his position.

Hux brings his knees up, keeping his feet planted flat on the bed as he reclines with his legs apart. His hole twitches as he manages to push the toy further inside him, the gradual slope of its shaft prying him farther apart with every passing second. His toes curl into the sheets as he grasps the base to angle it up, seeking more friction against his sensitive glands.

Hux pants, adjusting to the feeling of the toy’s full length inside of him. It’s really been awhile since he’s done this properly, and it shows. It takes longer than he remembers to relax enough around the toy for it to turn pleasurable, but once it _does_ —well, Hux is fully prepared to engulf himself in fantasy.

He fills his lungs with the scent of the pheromones, envisioning their origin as Kylo’s inky hair, his powerful chest, legs thick as pistons. A virile, uncontrolled alpha, torn and discordant on the inside but with all therequisite hungers intact. A true _apex_ , even if he concerns himself less with the might awarded to him by endotype than that of his mystical abilities within the Force. Hux has always lusted for power—and Kylo, despite his shortcomings, certainly wears power well.

Hux tosses his head back as he sinks the toy inside him as deep as it can go. He shifts the tip a little bit, earning a spark of pleasure before he starts to draw it out and fall into a proper rhythm. He grips his cock in his other hand, rubbing his palm against the velvety skin.

Kylo would be able to smell the desire on him, his senses sharply tuned both by his alpha nature and the boost of the Force. He would probably detect Hux’s presence before he even entered the room, already spreading his thighs and slouching back in his seat, casual and confident in his raw magnetism.

In reality Hux might sneer at Kylo’s obvious attraction. But he can envision himself acting contrary to his usual instinct, and instead crossing the room, heels clipping from front to back along the floor, only stopping when he came to kneel on both legs in front of his master’s throne.

In reality, Kylo doesn’t have one—he’d had Snoke’s old perch destroyed when they’d scuttled the _Supremacy_ —but it’s not hard to envision what it might be like. Kylo’s not a man of embellishments, but Hux thinks a sleek, black throne might suit him. One crafted of stone and veins of durasteel, so dark and endless Hux couldn’t even fathom his own expression in its depths as he sits before Kylo, resting his head on his knee like a pet, like the needy, slatternly omega that he is.

Kylo has such large hands. Hux has seen them grip the hilt of his saber, or clench in midair as he hefted unruly captives across the room. Strength lies beneath those leatheris gloves and how Hux longs to see them bare, to witness the flex of tendons as fingers curls around Hux’s jaw to tug his attention up to Kylo’s eyes.

_Oh_. Those eyes. They are a bewitching piece of sorcery, like deep, starry wells of void both dangerous and beguiling. Hux wonders, on occasion, if he’s been hypnotized to have these thoughts about Kylo—if he’s been probing about in Hux’s mind, severing and reconnecting bits and pieces as he sees fit, like a capricious child might with a favored toy. Usually such a possibility would throw Hux into a fit of indignation, prompt him to _demand_ Kylo stay out of his head, Supreme Leader or not—but in the shield of his fantasy he willfully concedes to Kylo’s whims, letting the alpha mold his desires however he pleases.

Hux would never grant Kylo this degree of submission in reality, not even under threat of death, but in the safety of his quarters, his own impregnable mind, it feels relieving to relinquish control and stop _fighting_ , if just for a moment.

Kylo would stroke Hux like a beloved hound—or perhaps more accurately, a _courtesan_ , like those belonging to some of the degenerate warlords the Order has crushed, who would drape spoils of their conquests in baubles and silks. He’s never shown much affection, to Hux nor anyone else, but in his fantasy Kylo slips his fingers through the omega’s hair, locks loose and downy from their typical style for this purpose. He cups Hux’s cheek and brushes his thumb against his lips, like he’s treasuring some rare jewel.

But such gentleness doesn’t last long. A calm, reverent Kylo can’t quite quench the fires inside of Hux the way he needs it, and as he starts to thrust the toy in and out of himself at a rougher pace, he lets his fantasies descend into something darker.

Kylo’s touch would turn harsh so quickly, as expected of an alpha of such irascible mood. Hux would feel it first in the tightening of his thighs, then in the growl of Kylo’s voice in some demeaning command that would usually unnerve but in that moment only excites. Hux might look up as Kylo presses a finger into his mouth, against the omega’s slim canines, ones that might bite and dig into his flesh if he weren’t careful, weren’t capable of making his general kneel to him.

Surely then Kylo would grab Hux’s hair, fingers digging into his scalp as he drags his head forward until his mouth rests near his bulging crotch, and command him to _suck_.

And Hux _would_. He hasn’t put his mouth on a cock since his Academy days but he would, for _Kylo_. It must be massive, going off the rest of the man’s bulk. A good, proper, _alpha_ cock that would stretch Hux’s lips around it, make his eyes water as its head prods against the back of his throat. But Hux wouldn’t gag, wouldn’t spit and cry and protest—perhaps to Kylo’s dismay, if he wants to see the omega suffer—but Hux wouldn’t let any dissatisfaction last for long. He would suckle the Supreme Leader’s shaft like a decadent treat, lips reddened and tender and teasing the bulging flesh where his knot would soon swell. He’d let Kylo plunge it as deep within his body as it could go, proudly weeping over the fact that he could take his alpha’s vicious thrusts without failing.

He would even let Kylo fuck him, no— _ruin_ him, however he saw fit. He would let Kylo wrench the zipper of his uniform so hard it warped, let him tear the impeccable fabric, mark it with his selfish claws. He would let Kylo strip him until naked, seat him upon his lap only to spear him upon his cock and split his hole around its girth. _The only way you’ll ever sit atop the Order_ , Kylo would whisper—and Hux would cry out and toss back his head, accepting his place.

He would let Kylo rake his fangs over the back of his neck and claim him for good, inescapably bind himself to Hux as he filled him with burning hot seed. Hux clutches at his belly with his free hand, nails scraping against where it recesses beneath the twin juts of his hips, envisioning how far it could bloat and round with Kylo’s seed alone. And the alpha would hold him as it happened, arms broad as the shafts of cannons around him, his mouth warm and covetous as he licked the fresh bonding mark on Hux’s neck, sending sparks of pleasure and belonging through the omega’s bones. He would stroke Hux’s middle, where he distended with come, with Kylo’s proof, and whisper the promise that Hux would never feel empty again, not with a crop of pups kicking in his belly.

Hux _aches_ at the thought, though he’s never wanted children, though he’s starved any nurturing instinct out once he attained his current rank. But he would let Kylo breed him, thrust his hips down and sink him in deep, until Kylo seeded his insides and left him fat and fertile, body forever altered by the alpha’s attention.

Hux comes to this vision of himself, rich with offspring and splayed out upon Kylo’s lap, twisting the false knot inside of him as he spills into his palm. He stares at the ceiling, shuddering in the aftermath, as whispers of “ _good boy, Hux”_ softly echo through his ears until they vanish under the pounding of his heartbeat.

Once he’s wrung as much pleasure out of himself as possible, Hux carefully works the toy out of him, avoiding movement that might tug or strain unnecessarily. There’s a slight stitch in his side from the effort once he gets the cock all the way out and resting on the bedcovers, strength exhausted by the intensity of his fantasy. He lets his eyes rest for a moment, arm folded over his belly. Coming down is always the hardest part, the return to reality and rational thought where he can feel properly embarrassed of his thoughts about Ren.

Gingerly Hux sits up, retrieving the packet of tissues from the top drawer to clean the come and lube from both his hole and the toy. It’ll have to be autoclaved later, when Hux isn’t so exhausted, but for now he wraps it up in one of the soiled tissues and tucks it away—alongside those ridiculous, unreachable fantasies, hidden back where they belong in his mind’s reserve,for the future day when he’ll again inevitably succumb to the same weaknesses.

Hux usually closes the ritual with a nice, fresh mug of tarine tea to bring himself back together, until he fully inhabits the body of a tempered _general_ rather than a helpless omega. Once cleaned he slips on his robe and trundles out into his quarters’ small kitchen, quite looking forward to a warm drink.

His comlink buzzes with a message from the Supreme Leader just as Hux starts heating the water.

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like I haven't written enough pure smut fics for these two. If you'd like to see more writing of that flavor let me know!
> 
> Hit me up on [Tumblr](http://thethespacecoyote.tumblr.com) and [Twitter](https://twitter.com/heir_of_breath7/).


End file.
